Forgive Me, Padawan
by mike930
Summary: Jedi Master Dooku comes to a decision at the funeral of his old apprentice.


The dying light of the Jedi's pyre flickered lazily over the solemn, hooded faces of his mourners, throwing intermittent shadows across the small room. As the body disappeared beneath the fire's glow and the embers gradually burned out, the men and women who had befriended, loved and quarreled with Qui-Gon Jinn bowed their heads in a respectful farewell… and then filed away slowly, one by one, leaving the cold ashes alone.

Almost.

Cloaked in the simple robes of his calling, Jedi Master Dooku mournfully regarded the cold pyre with a mixture of frustration and loss. The cooling ashes that had been his beloved apprentice seemed to call to the aged Master, wrenching his heart in a way that he would have, at one time, deemed inappropriate for a Jedi.

_I wish you were here, old friend. Maybe you could set this old fool straight once again. _He sighed heavily once again, lowering his eyes away from his favorite student. _Just as you tried to do for the Council._

The sudden memory of the Council, so untouchable and so omnipotent, filled the old Jedi's heart with anger. The Council didn't care about the masses or downtrodden people out there; they'd simply looked after themselves. _You were the only one to oppose them, my friend. Without you… who will stand up for those with no one?_

Dooku swore to himself angrily, damning both Qui-Gon for his cursed courage the Council for their lack of vision concerning his old student. The old Jedi shook his head as the momentary flash of anger abated, and slumped his still powerful shoulders in resignation.

_You always were the wise one, Qui-Gon._

* * *

"Qui-Gon Jinn, come here this instant!"

Dooku's voice had always been a powerful asset in dealing with stubborn diplomats and mischievous padawan alike. When the deep, resonating baritone of Master "Angry Face", as he was known by the younglings, sounded through the Temple corridors, most creatures of good sense usually saw fit to run for cover.

Most creatures, anyways.

The tall, confident boy he'd taken as a padawan, however, was not such an individual. Though typically quiet and reserved, Qui-Gon was known to possess a rather troublesome, if rarely seen, streak of stubbornness that seemed to go down to the core of his being. And, to his friends and fellow padawans, it seemed all too apparent that today would be another instance to observe this side of their friend in action.

"Qui… run for it," hissed one of his friends urgently, eyes widening in .

"Yeah, he sounds like he means business this time," agreed another, beside him. "We'll tell him we haven't seen you."

"You know as well as I do that he'd see right through that," sighed their gangly companion. "Best to get this over with."

The menacing hiss of automatic doors opening drew the tall youth's attention away from his friends… prompting both to seize the opportunity to disappear. Sighing, Qui-Gon turned to face his punishment

With a dramatic flair, the robed figure of his Master stalked into the corridor. Eyes narrowed (as they so often seemed to be) and face contorted into a scowl, the young Master regarded his apprentice coldly, pausing several seconds before speaking.

"What," he enunciated precisely, producing a tiny animal from the folds of his robe "is the meaning of this disobedience?"

Qui-Gon locked eyes with his Master defiantly. "It was out on the streets. And, as I'm sure you've noticed, it's rather cold outside. I saw no harm…"

"You saw no harm!" The dark-haired Jedi exclaimed. "I suppose defiance of my instructions is also no harm!"

"Master," Qui-Gon said carefully "you've never expressly said that I wasn't allowed to give you a gift."

"A gift!" he laughed mirthlessly. "What would I, as someone who abhors animals and the fur they leave everywhere, possibly want with a Coruscant streetkitten! At any rate, I told you: no more taking in 'things'," his lip curled distastefully "off the street. We've been through this a dozen times."

The boy adopted a hurt expression as his mind scrambled to find a suitable answer. "Master, you hurt me! Don't you see that I, er, think so highly of you that I would risk punishment to give you such a gift?"

Dooku sighed, looking down in annoyance at the blind bundle of fur that had begun to mew pitifully. Then his face softened and he began to stroke the small creatures head. "Qui-Gon, your sympathy for these life-forms is commendable. If only you were a Senator instead of a Jedi, the galaxy might get somewhere. But we cannot always afford to let ourselves be drawn in by compassion wherever we go; that is the meaning of discipline. A discipline which you, my apprentice, need to learn."

"Yes Master. But…" Qui-Gon paused quickly, mulling over in his head exactly what it was he was trying to say.

"Go ahead, padawan. What am I here for if not to instruct?"

"It's just that, well," he began carefully "if no one else in the universe wants to look out for other beings, doesn't it fall to us, as the ones who are supposed to be protecting them anyway, to take a stand?"

_I must be rubbing off on him… the Council has heard me make that same argument time and time again, Dooku sighed to himself. Perhaps it's for the best, though…_

"Qui-Gon…" To his credit, the boy stood silent, awaiting his Master's response. "In my heart of hearts, I agree completely. But we are not ruled by our hearts, my young friend; we must be above that, if we are to truly help anyone. "

Seeing the crestfallen expression on his apprentice's face, Dooku smiled warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "If I could, Qui-Gon, I would help all of them. Every single one. But that power is not in my grasp, my young friend, and even if it were, I believe that temptation to abuse it would destroy even the noblest of sentients."

"Oh, no, Master," the boy said seriously. "You would never do anything like that!"

"Hmm. I would like to think you correct, Qui-Gon, but it's a moot point." He sighed. "Just like my argument about this kitten. Very well: it may stay with us. But I can't let your disobedience go unpunished."

Qui-Gon's bright smile briefly contorted into a frown. "Of course, Master," he said unenthusiastically.

"Qui-Gon Jinn…" Dooku handed him the kitten. "You have to take care of this… thing! If I find any shed hair on my cloak or scratches on my furniture, so help me…"

But the boy was already hugging him in gratitude, and Dooku let the threat drop off into empty air. Smiling, he returned the hug.

"Don't ever change, Qui-Gon. Ever."

* * *

The memories faded from the aged Master's mind, and Dooku let out a heavy sigh of regret.

"You were the best thing to ever happen to these old fools," he pronounced sadly. "And the galaxy itself is lessened for your loss. Goodbye, my beloved Padawan."

_And forgive me for what I must do._


End file.
